Strangers on a Train
by wordsaremyescape
Summary: All he can do is watch now. Watch as they become nothing more than strangers. Quick!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Nor do I own the song used in here.**

The bell sounds, alerting McKinley to another excruciatingly long Monday. He walks the halls, typical smirk across his face as he saunters down the hall. He's never really paid attention to much. Puck's just here because he has to be. It's not that he doesn't enjoy school. He's just never been very good at it. That's why he joined the team. Sports seem to be his only bright spot. The smirk widens. The Cheerios are piling in from an early morning practice. He sees legs. Lots and lots of legs. Most of them, he's touched with more than just his hands.

He's easily aroused at the sight of his olive toned lovelies. Puck's seen and played with those more often than most. Probably because Santana Lopez is the only one who needs sex just as much as he does. Okay, not need exactly. They just do it for the simple fact that it's fun. What else is he supposed to do? Noah Puckerman's a player. That's supposed to be his high school career or something. All the fun and no commitment.

If he was being totally honest, he didn't want it as much anymore. For the last few months it's become a need. He needs that connection. He needs skin to skin contact. He needs to free his mind. He can't keep thinking about her. It's starting to drive him crazy. Not that he'd ever admit that. He doesn't make a point to remember. She just seems to crawl into the forefront of his mind when he's not even paying attention. He does that a lot. Not pay attention. So it's only natural that her soft face and blond hair come barging in when he least expects it.

The air in his lungs is gone for a span of three seconds. His heart's seemed to do this little leaping thing. Almost like it's jumping for joy at the sight of her. He sees more than her soft pale legs. They're not alone. Alongside her, he's standing. He hasn't seen her face yet, (and really, he doesn't know if he could handle it if he did) or his, but his blood's run cold.

_**Sometimes you see someone**_

_**When you've already got someone**_

_**Still you wonder what if they had come**_

_**Along, a long time ago**_

He has no idea why. He's the one who stole her. He's the one who made her a cheater. So why is it, that he feels so angry? Okay, he's not really angry. Hurt? Maybe. (Though he'd never admit it). One look at her (well the second half of her body-enough to see her Cheerios uniform, which he thinks makes her amazingly hot) and his mind is flooding. In less than ten seconds, his brain has replayed every minute of that night. He lets it play three more times (though once is torture enough) before blinking with a shake of his head.

_**You know that they're feeling it too**_

_**But there ain't nothin' you gonna do**_

_**Except for imagine who you might have been with them**_

_**They're not tryin' to make it last**_

_**Just enjoying each second as they pass**_

Puck doesn't even remember how they got there. One minute, they're just talking. Well, Quinn's actually doing the talking, or screaming, or crying. He can't even remember how much of either there was for him to listen to. Puck just sat there, fighting the urge to roll his eyes every time she complained about how fat she was. He's never been good with the patience thing. He's been sitting there for the last ten minutes and after five of those ten, he's already looking for a wall to ram his head into.

She's still rambling. By now Puck really wants to leave. Anything to get away from listening to her bitch about her already perfect body. But leaving would make him an ass. Giving her an excuse to leave, when she's so broken up like this. Even though he thinks the reason is completely stupid, he can't leave. So instead, he shuts her up. Before she's even able to finish, he kisses her. He hears her gasp mid-kiss and smirks. He hasn't done this in a while. Been with a girl. And by a while, he means a couple of weeks.

She's surprised no doubt about it. He can feel it in the way she's stiffened up, her eyes are wide. Puck continues anyway, not at all ready to pull away. Her lips feel too good against his own. Quinn's going to bitch him out for doing this later, but right now, that's the last thing on his mind. Eventually, seeing no way out, she's given into him. After a few minutes, he finds the strength to pull away.

'_**Cause as these little brick houses are flying by**_

'_**Neath the flickering of the railcar lights**_

_**I let myself get lost in your eyes a while**_

He's frozen now. Just staring. If kissing her had given him a reason not to pull away, those eyes...Those crystal blue eyes...He sure as hell isn't going to leave now. He can't. Not even if he wants to. They've trapped him. He's a prisoner. Noah Puckerman, the guy so used to trapping himself, is finally the trapped. He's lost at his own game. He's frustrated. All it takes for a jock like him is a pair of big blue eyes. How does that even work?

_**Not another passenger in here can see**_

_**How in my mind you're holdin' me**_

They've done nothing but kiss and already his picturing more than he should. He and Quinn are doing it on every surface of her spotless mansion. It's too perfect. He needs dirty. More than that though, he needs to touch her, feel her. Puck needs to ravish this woman for all the simple beauty she seems to offer him.

Puck's finally able to free himself, the chaos of high school hallways, a rude awakening from his perfect memory. It's already March. It's been nine months. He should be over this by now. Long over this. Puck isn't that kind of guy. He doesn't make a point to remember. But a woman like Quinn Fabray isn't easy to forget. He's learned that the hard way. It's made even harder when he's forced to watch her with him. Watching how he treats her, how he's with her, yet fawning over the short brunette who doesn't know when to shut up. Quinn isn't oblivious. She knows. The fact that she does, and does nothing about it, angers Puck more than it should. The fact that she doesn't even look at him. That hurts more than it should. A mindless brush of his pocket reminds him why the knife sits on his chest.

Secretly, he feels the fabric of her small pink cap. The only reminder he has left of her. The only thing that remains, to remind him why it hurts so bad. The small piece of his daughter that he's allowed himself to keep. He and Quinn were more than one night. They'd created a life together. A life that Quinn acts as though she's forgotten. He knows she hasn't. A baby's existence is hard, impossible to forget. The fact that she acts as if she has though... He has no idea how to feel about that.

_**While outside the cold makes snow out of the rain**_

_**But in here were just strangers on a train**_

Put simply, he's angry (nothing new there). He's angry that she can just go on with her day as if what they shared, what they had meant nothing. It wasn't supposed to mean anything. It wasn't even supposed to happen. She's doing it right. She's treated them like strangers. Just as he would have done. But he can't. He can't forget that the night of drunken sex actually meant something to him. He can't forget that for once, a girl made him feel.

_**Start to smile, I turn my head**_

_**It's kinda like a spider's web**_

_**I just can't seem to sake you off**_

_**So I look your way again**_

_**You're staring off trying to pretend**_

_**Like you haven't noticed me at all**_

Crap. He's made the mistake of looking. Now he's stuck. Just like he was that one night. She's looking at him and for about five seconds he feels it. For five seconds, Puck feels everything. His heart drops. She's blinked and turned away from him. He's fighting the urge to walk up to her, take her roughly by the shoulders, and force her to look him in the eye. He doesn't. That would make him an ass. That would give her reason to yell at him. Not that the idea sounds all that bad. At least they'd be talking. He's just staring at her back now that was covered with long blond beauty the night they were alone. Now it's trapped (just like he was). She's treating them like complete strangers.

_**But don't feel guilty it don't mean much**_

_**The truth is the two of us ain't never gonna touch**_

Puck just has to accept it. As much as he hates the idea, he has to suck it up and move on. What they had was a one time deal. What they had wasn't even supposed to happen. He's never going to have her in that way again. She's Finn's now. She was Finn's before he stole her. Not really stole. Stealing would mean taking her against her will. He cringes. That sounds like rape. The point is that she was just as willing.

'_**Cause as these little brick houses are flying by**_

'_**Neath the flickering of the railcar lights**_

_**I let myself get lost in your eyes a while**_

_**Not another passenger in here can see**_

_**How in my mind you're holdin' me**_

_**While outside the cold makes snow out of the rain**_

_**But in here were just strangers on a train**_

Now Finn gets the privilege. He gets to look into those crystal blues all he damn well pleases. Not that he deserves it. The guy's his best friend. In reality, he should be defending him. Instead he's mad. Mad that he can't take what's right in front of him. Instead, he's pining for a talkative, wannabe Broadway bitch, who doesn't understand the word "shut up". And while he's usually clueless friend is chasing the tail of prey he can't seem to catch, Puck's forced to watch it all. He's forced to watch his best friend have the girl he wants. He's forced to come to terms with the fact that he isn't her first choice.

_**Brakes grind, I gotta go**_

_**Reach down pick up my coat**_

_**Afraid that you might stop me in the aisle**_

The second bell has sounded. Usually, he doesn't give a shit about being late. Today, he has no choice. Either he's on time for first period (for the first time in his high school career), or he just watches her. The idea of watching her for the sake of simply watching her doesn't sound so bad. She's hot. She's hot but she isn't his.

Before he can change his mind, he turns the corner, headed to his first class. As he races past the hundreds of bodies, he still hopes. Somehow, he still hopes that she's noticed him watching her all this time. Maybe she'll stop him. Maybe, by some miracle, they'll engage in some pointless small talk.

_**Watch my breath rising in the air**_

_**I can't do nothing but just stand there**_

_**As you press your hand against the windowpane**_

He's made it to class now. Still no sign of Quinn. With a heavy sigh, he slumps into the very back desk, the one on the far corner. Just before the teacher starts his morning lecture (he hasn't bothered to learn his name), he hears her laugh. He tenses, whipping his head around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her just before she leaves his line of vision.

Puck feels his heart leap just a little. He turns his head to see her smiling, white teeth helping curve her perfect mouth into one of her really big grins. It isn't a fake like the ones she used to wear last year to prove to everyone that she was okay, that she was still Quinn. The eyes don't lie.

Puck sighs. He knows he's not the one who put it there. If anything, he's the reason she faked. He'll just have to be a man. Be a man and accept the fact that Quinn Fabray would never have him. He's going to eventually have to come to terms with the idea that, as much as they've shared, they're nothing but strangers now. Or at least, that's the way she wants it. He's heard somewhere that, if you really love someone, you let them be with who makes them happy. Even if that someone isn't you.

Taking in a deep breath, he shakes his head. They're too different. They're not supposed to work. And so, they don't. Overtime, you learn that, as much as you might want someone, they're not always going to want you back. He's never going to be her first choice. Puck's never been good in school so, it's not surprising that this is a lesson he still hasn't learned. The truth is, he probably never will. Just before she passes him, he waves. He has no idea why he bothers. It's not like she's going to notice him.

_**And I wave to my stranger on a train**_

_**My stranger on a train**_

**A/N: Jut a little bit of Quick drabble. :)**


End file.
